


In the Closet

by Naemi



Series: The Sniper and the Werewolf [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Hand Jobs, Hormones and Apocalypse, M/M, Rushed Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: Isaac can smell 10K's arousal underneath the ever-present tang of the apocalypse, and suddenly, that's all that matters.





	

The door closes with a quiet thud and shuts out most of the dim light. Isaac bumps his head against a clothes rail and brushes aside a few dusty smelling dresses. The walk-in closet is small, and if the fabric under Isaac's outstretched hands is any indicator, it's crammed full.

“So now what?” he whispers, but he knows—of course he knows because 10K has only two reasons to challenge his claustrophobia, and Zs aren’t one of them right now.

Instead of answering, 10K fists the front of Isaac's shirt and pulls him closer. His warm breath tickles Isaac's face, only for a heartbeat, and then their lips meet, and 10K's fingers wander down to the waistband of Isaac's worn-out jeans. Before he can venture any further, Isaac bats his hand away. He can hear the shuffle of footsteps and muffled voices from downstairs, and it's not helping the mood.

10K sighs into the kiss and withdraws the next moment. Isaac can't see his expression in the relative darkness, but from the way he tilts his head to the side, he knows this whole thing can only go one of two ways: he can refuse 10K and deal with his frustration for the rest of the day or give in and trust that the entertainment will outweigh the lurking panic—which it usually does. Still, Isaac isn't quite convinced this is the time or place.

“They'll hear us,” he says feebly, and knowing it's not a particularly good point, he adds an even less convincing, “What if they walk in on us?”

“You do realize that's why we're in a closet?”

“And you do realize that's about the last place I want to be?”

10K huffs. “It's the apocalypse. We don't really get to choose anything most of the time.”

Isaac sighs. There it is, around the edges of 10K's voice: frustration tinged with an accusation. It should intensify Isaac's reluctance, but instead, it prompts him to grab 10K by the hips and pull him so close that he can feel his dick against his own through the many layers of fabric. Isaac's lips curl into a smirk that 10K can't see and he rubs against the side of his neck, just for a moment before his teeth graze the soft skin there.

He travels up, sucks at the sensitive spot under 10K's ear, and elicits a hushed moan. When Isaac grabs 10K's ass and grinds his hips against him, another moan catches in 10K's throat, and for a blink, he seems to surrender to Isaac's lead. But the next thing Isaac knows 10K is kissing him again and pushing him backwards a few steps until a shelf stabs him in the back. The construction, either ramshackle or haphazard, collapses on impact and rains down old clothes and shoes.

Isaac stumbles and lands on the fabric pile. A pointed heel pokes him in the thigh, but before he can reach for it, 10K straddles him. Isaac's pain-tinged moan is swallowed in another kiss, and that goddamned stiletto heel tries to kill Isaac when 10K grinds down.

Issac writhes and pushes at 10K's chest until he withdraws reluctantly.

“What now?” he hisses.

“Shoe,” Isaac mumbles.

“Shoe?”

Isaac gets hold of the culprit and tosses it away. “Shoe,” he repeats, and without giving 10K the chance to reply, he pulls him into another kiss because screw it: Isaac can smell 10K's arousal underneath the ever-present tang of the apocalypse, and suddenly, that's all that matters.

Besides, nothing confirms you're alive like a hard-on pressed against your own.

With a swift motion, Isaac flips 10K on his back, crawls between his legs, and pins him down without ever breaking the kiss. He rolls his hips, and his dick twitches. For a second, Isaac considers ignoring his need for more, but however beautiful the thought to just drag it all out might be, he knows they can't. Moments like this are rare enough, and if they're not quick about it, they’ll be surprised—by the pack or the next best shit that's going to hit the fan, and neither would go over well.

Sitting back, he starts fumbling 10K's fly open and slips his hand inside. The first stroke elicits a breathless moan and prompts 10K to lift his hips in invitation. Isaac complies; he pulls down 10K's pants and boxers just enough to let his dick spring free, and a waft of precome, faint but tantalizing, makes Isaac's eyes shift to amber.

He wants nothing more than to taste 10K, but he implemented the rule of _no showers, no blowjobs,_ which probably makes sense despite limiting their options profoundly most of the time. So Isaac settles for pushing up 10K's shirt and kissing his scar before he wraps his hand around 10K's dick, sits back again, and struggles with his own belt and zipper.

Once he’s pulled out his cock, Isaac strokes himself like he does 10K, once, twice, and then impatience gets the better of him. Or both of them, really, for they move at the same time, and their fingers meet around their erections. Then, they start building a slow rhythm to figure out just the right amount of pressure they need to make Isaac gasp and 10K moan.

The scent of their combined arousal makes Isaac's head swim, and the small, teasing flicks of 10K's thumb over the tip of his cock almost suffice to send him straight to the edge.

Growling low in his throat, Isaac pulls first his own then 10K's pants down further, a challenging task in their current position. But he succeeds, and not a minute too soon because if he can't get that bit more friction he seeks, _now,_ he's going to go crazy.

He bends down, supports himself on his free hand, and 10K meets him halfway for another kiss. He wraps his legs around Isaac's hips, and now that their dicks are buried between their bodies, their smooth strokes turn into haphazard jerks before the boys give up on the idea of jacking each other off.

10K is the first to loosen his grip, but Isaac follows his example swiftly. With nothing more in the way, he grinds down just as 10K rears up. Their mingling moans are too loud for Isaac's taste; he's sure he hears laughter somewhere in the house, and the thought of the pack _knowing_ makes him blush. But it feels too good, and he's too close, and judging by the gallop of 10K's heartbeat and the hitch of his breath, he isn't far behind.

Closing his eyes despite the darkness, Isaac tunes out the chatter from downstairs and focuses only on the here and now: smell and sounds and the slippery slide of their dicks against one another.

10K meets Isaac's every move, even as they become a little erratic. He kisses his approval on Isaac's neck, digs it in his side with blunt fingernails until all is one and the world stops turning.

Isaac can't tell who comes first—not that it matters—but they capture each other’s moans in a series of almost desperate kisses, and in that moment, bliss and gratitude and something vaguely resembling deep affection flood Isaac's mind and threaten to drown him.

He breaks the kiss to touch their foreheads together. Their labored breaths and racing heartbeats are the only sounds. Even the pack downstairs has fallen silent.

The thought brings Isaac back to reality. He moves to withdraw, but 10K won't let him; he only wraps his legs around him tighter.

“Come on,” Isaac whispers. “It's time. They'll get suspicious.”

10K shakes his head and takes a slow, deep breath as if to prepare for saying something important, but then he only huffs and releases Isaac.

As Isaac sits back on his heels and cleans himself up with one of the scattered garments, he feels strangely guilty all of a sudden, as if he'd done 10K wrong. Lacking words, he grabs another piece of clothing and offers it to 10K, but he either doesn't see or he ignores it. Isaac clears his throat.

“It's okay,” 10K half whispers.

“What?”

“You know. This. Us. It is what it is, and that's okay.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it is. I guess. It's … good … the way it is.”

10K hums as if to approve, but Isaac knows he knows it's a lie. He's grateful 10K lets him have it, however, because he's not ready for the truth yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [FFFC](http://fffc.livejournal.com)'s 1st Froday Madness Special: Minor characters & rare pairs.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Visit my LJ-community [Bunny Bash](http://bunnybash.livejournal.com) to leave me a prompt at any time.]
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


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